The Fixer
by JesseEhrmantraut
Summary: (First fanfic, please be kind!) (Warning: Spoilers!) At the end of Say My Name, Mike Ehrmantraut died. But what if he had lived? After a close encounter with death, Mike is forced to flee Albuquerque and travel back to a familiar yet foreign place. But back at home, things aren't exactly tied in a neat little bow. In the end, Mike will be closer to the boom than ever.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Mike had always known that Walter Hartwell White had hubris. From his first meeting with Gus, he needed to have things run _his_ way; everything had to be to _his_ liking. There was no such thing as a compromise for Walter. He tried to save him once, but that time was over. He had grown far too corrupt. He had orchestrated Gale's death just to save his sorry ass. He had killed their old boss just to take his position, just to have his throne. He had wrapped that poor Pinkman kid under his thumb. Walter thrived on power. God only knew what else he had done.

And with every passing day, every other stunt, it made Mike loathe this man all the more. His skin crawled whenever he looked at him. He had hated himself for accepting Walt's offer to work with him. And what had it brought? Nothing but chaos. Just like everything he did. How had he ever pitied this man?

Mike had put up with a lot of bullshit, but none of the past bullshit was even close to the amount he got from Walter White. He was only glad, and a little apprehensive, that this would supposedly be the last time he saw that awful man. He'd just grab the money and go. That was the plan. Grab the money and go.

He saw Walt's car pulling up to the meeting place. He hated that it was this remote, but it was necessary so the DEA wouldn't find him. Mike watched Walt very carefully, getting out of the car with the getaway bag. Mike was on the alert. He knew that Walt would try to do something, one final farewell gift.

Walt walked up to Mike. "Hello, Walter." Mike said to him.

Walt paused. Here we go, thought Mike. "Before I hand this over, I need something from you."

"And what's that?"

"The names of your nine men."

Of course. It always had to be something. "Why?" Mike asked tiredly. "You're never gonna pay them off. What's the point?"

"The point is, Mike, it affects me. It affects Jesse, too, and we deserve to know."

You don't deserve shit, Mike thought. But he tried to keep calm. He grabbed the bag from him, and tried to give him one last piece of advice. "The only thing left to do now is leave town. You understand?"

But of course he couldn't. "'Leave town?' Wow. Yeah, I just can't up and leave like you, Mike. I've got a family. I've got people who depend on me."

Mike wondered exactly how many of those people would miss him. None, he thought. He certainly wouldn't. "Goodbye, Walter." Mike began to walk away.

But before he could go far, he heard Walt, that bastard, yell back at him: "You're welcome!"

And something about that made him snap. Maybe it was just the way he said it; maybe it just rubbed him the wrong way; but something about those two words were the straw that broke the camel's back. Mike was done with Walter. He would have the last word.

"I'm sorry, what?" Mike said, turning back towards him.

"I want those names, Mike. You owe me that much." Walt said forcefully.

"I don't owe you a damn thing!" Mike spat. "All of this, falling apart like this, is on _you_!"

"Wow…" Walt muttered, showing the annoyance on his face. "Wow! Oh, that's some kind of logic right there, Mike. You screw up, get yourself followed by the DEA, and now, suddenly, this is all my fault? Why don't you walk me through this, Mike?" He said sarcastically.

"We had a good thing, you son of a bitch!" Mike shouted, unleashing the months of pent-up anger he had been keeping down. "We had Fring! We had a lab! We had everything we ever needed. It all ran like clockwork. You could've shut your mouth, cooked, and made as much money as you ever needed. It was perfect! But no, you just had to blow it up! You and your pride, and your ego! You just had to be the man! If you'd done your job, known your place, we'd all be fine right now!"

Walt was left speechless, silent in his rage. Mike saw a dangerous look in his eyes, but he didn't care. Mike walked away, back to his car. He sat down and closed the door. He didn't want to take any chances. He checked the bag to see if everything was there. There was the money, a new driver's license, new passport...but where was the gun?

Oh, no. He didn't. Mike looked in the rear-view mirror and saw Walt, walking from his car with the gun in his hand. He had taken the gun.

"Oh, no you don't…" Mike said. Quickly, without even thinking, Mike backed the car up, trying to throw Walt off guard. Walt was forced to jump out of the way, landing on the ground. Mike knew when it was time to go, and that time had come. He put the car into drive and stepped on the gas pedal hard. The car sped away.

He heard a gunshot, and the whistle of a bullet speeding past. Thankfully, Walt was shaken and didn't have good aim. The bullet didn't even touch the car. Mike slowed his driving only when he was certain that he was away from Walt.

He looked back in the rear-view mirror just to reassure himself that Walt wasn't following him. He wasn't. Goodbye, Walter, Mike thought. If we ever met again, it would be a lifetime too soon.

* * *

><p>When he reached Santa Fe, Mike thought that it would be safe to call. He parked in a gas station and went to the payphone. He had almost not had any quarters on him, but he had saved them for just this moment that he knew would eventually come. And it had.<p>

Mike inserted the quarters into the payphone slot and dialed the number. He waited while the phone rang, and after three rings an adult female voice picked up.

"...hello?" said the speaker on the line. It was his daughter-in-law. Catherine. Mother of Kaylee.

"Put Kaylee on the phone." Mike said simply. He didn't have much time.

"...Mike?" Catherine said. "Where are you? There were police at our house...asking questions about you. You're a fugitive. You...you left Kaylee all alone at the park…Mike...what-"

"Shut the fuck up and put her on the line." Mike growled. He never liked Catherine.

Startled, but unsurprised that he wouldn't give any answers, she called Kaylee Ehrmantraut to the phone. When she told her it was her Pop Pop, she ran to the phone.

Kaylee excitedly picked up the phone from her mother. "Hi Pop Pop!"

Mike smiled at the other end of the line. "Hello, sweetheart. I'm sorry I had to run off earlier."

"It's okay," Kaylee said, "the nice police officers helped me get home."

"That's good…" Mike said. He felt himself tearing up. Tearing up? Could he still cry? He tried to hold it back and spoke to his granddaughter. "Hey, listen, Pop Pop's going to go away on a vacation for a little bit."

"Where are you going?" Kaylee asked. "Are you going to the beach?"

"Yes," Mike laughed. "I'm going to the beach. But I'm going to have to be there for a while."

"Can I come too?" said Kaylee innocently.

"Now, you have to go to school!" Mike said affectionately. "You're still young! When you're older, then you'll be able to go around on vacations to the beach more often."

"When will you be back?"

Mike paused. He felt a horrible pain in his stomach. "It depends on how much fun I'm having…" he forced himself to say. "But...I promise...I'll be back, sweetheart. I'll be back soon."

"Okay." Kaylee said. "And then later you'll take me to the zoo, right?"

"Of course, sweetheart." Mike said. "I've got to go now. You be a good girl, okay?"

'I will."

"Okay, good." He swallowed. "...goodbye, Kaylee."

"Bye!" She hung up.

Mike stood there for a minute. He placed his head in his hands. He cried for a minute. Then, he went back to the car. He would come back for her. He still needed to find a way to give Kaylee the money. But for now, he needed to hide. Away from Albuquerque, away from the DEA, away from Walter White. He needed to go away for a little bit until everyone forgot about him.

And Mike knew exactly the place to go.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Walt threw the gun to the ground in anger. He had let him get away. Damn. Damn! How was he supposed to get those names now? He watched the car speed away into the distance. Let him run, Walt thought angrily. Coward.

Anger boiled through Walt more fiercely by the second. That ingrate, that selfish cretin! Mike had always been a problem. It was always inevitable that in the end, he'd want to take the easy way out and run away. That was the type of person Mike was, wasn't he? Always had to be the pain in the ass in his plans. If he hadn't needed Mike for distribution, he would have never made contact with him again. He never got anything right.

And then, just now, when Walt asked for a simple task, Mike blamed everything that went wrong on him. Him! If it weren't for him, none of this, no part of his empire would have ever came into existence! All three of them, him, Jesse, and Mike too, they would have been living rich. Like kings! They all would have all the money they would have ever needed and then some! The DEA might not be tracking them right now if Mike had just followed explicit and clear instructions. And Mike blamed _him_ for everything?

Worst of all, he left jeopardizing the entire business. These nine men, whom he didn't even know the names of, could destroy everything that Walt had worked for. He could not let that happen. He needed those names.

Suddenly, he realized: he didn't need the names from Mike at all. He could get them from that lady, what was her name...Lydia? She knew the men. She could give her the names.

Walt, for a second, was stunned. He looked at the gun lying on the ground, in the thin grass. He picked it up and brushed off the dirt. Would he have really...killed Mike? No. No, of course he wouldn't have. He would have simply used it as a mechanism to get the information out of him. But no, he would never actually have used it on him. Let alone kill him. No, of course not.

Walt stuffed the gun quickly in his pocket, as if worrying someone would see it. He walked back to his car and took out his cell phone from his pocket. He punched in a number he remembered from the train heist and waited while the phone rang.

After three rings, she picked up. "Hello?" answered Lydia.

"It's Walt. I need the names from you." Walt said.

"What names?" asked Lydia. "Be a bit more specific."

"You know perfectly well what names," said Walt, "Mike's nine guys. The henchmen that worked for Fring. I need those names." There was a pause. "Hello? Lydia?"

"I have the names." Lydia said. "But I have to give them to you in person. Do you know the Grove?"

"What?"

"It's a coffee shop. Meet me there in two hours."

Walt hung up. This was risky. He hardly knew Lydia, but from what he did know she wasn't very trustworthy. Mike had wanted to kill her, after all. If she didn't give him the names, then all was lost. He would need to give her some extra motivation, in case she didn't cooperate. He placed the gun neatly on the passenger's seat cushion and drove.

* * *

><p>Walt arrived at his home. He did not expect Skyler or Walt Jr., or anyone, to be there. Skyler would probably be at the car wash, and Junior would still be at school for another few hours. But to his surprise, a car was parked in the driveway. It was Jesse's.<p>

Jesse got out of his car when he saw Walt pull up in the driveway. He looked relieved.

"Jesse?" Walt said. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Look, I was just getting worried is all," he replied, "I tried looking for you at the, uh, Vamanos Pest place, but you weren't there. I called you like a billion times, why didn't you answer?"

Walt had noticed the calls while he was driving, but was too preoccupied in his own thoughts to answer them. And he was still angry that he had let Mike get away, despite being able to get the names now.

"I was...busy." Walt said. "Let's go inside." Walt opened the front door and let Jesse inside. They stood in the living room. "Why were you worried?"

"Uh, you know..." Jesse said. "With Mike going and all. Something might have gone wrong with that." He paused. "How'd it go, anyway?"

"It went fine." Walt grumbled. "Aside from the fact that he tried to run me over."

Jesse gawked at him. "Seriously?"

Suddenly, an idea occurred to him: he wanted Jesse back on his side. But Jesse was leaving the business, mainly due to Todd and Drew Sharp. But his feelings for leaving were also reinforced by Mike. Jesse had been going back and forth between his and Mike's side, ever since Gus had gotten interested in the kid, but now that Mike was out of the picture, he might be able to win him back. For good.

"...yeah." Walt said. "I asked Mike for the names of those nine guys. He refused, and then tried to back over me. I jumped out of the way at the last second, and he drove away. So I'm not sure if that constitutes as a good reaction." Of course, he intentionally left out that he had been coming at him with a gun. "So now, not only did he directly endanger my life, he's now indirectly endangered both of our lives by not giving us those names."

"Oh, Jesus." Jesse moaned. He sat down on the living room couch. Walt could see Jesse's mind working, struggling to picture Mike in that scenario, and struggling between the two superiors. If things went well, then he would choose him over Mike. Slowly, Walt sat down next to him.

"Oh, shit, Mr. White..." Jesse said. "I'm sorry...it should have been me...I should have gone out there, he would have listened to me-"

"Jesse, there's no use in blaming yourself," Walt said, placing a hand on his former-partner's shoulder. "I got the message. He wants to destroy me. The outcome wouldn't have been any different if it were you coming to meet him. He would never give us those names."

"Shit...what are we gonna do?"

"Well, as it happens, I called that woman that Mike knew, Lydia...she has the names, but I'm not positive she is going to give them to us. It's a gamble, surely. She seems to be very unpredictable." Walt did not mention that he planned to poison her with ricin if she did not comply. It was the only reason he went back to his house in the first place, to retrieve the poison.

Jesse nodded. "Yeah...she seemed like it..."

"You wouldn't be willing to come, would you? Just as some backup?"

Jesse looked down at his feet. He was uneasy. "Um, look, Mr. White…if this is some way in trying to get me back into the business…I'm out, man. That's final."

"Jesse." Walt said. "Listen. Mike…he's manipulated you. He's trying to get you out. Why, I don't know, maybe he wants you on his side. And I know you thought you could trust him, but look what he did to us."

"Mike was cool, okay?" Jesse said weakly.

"Mike betrayed both of us. And now we're left with this highly unstable person with the information that he should have given to us." He looked Jesse in the eye. "Now, I can either go with this alone, or I could use some help."

"It was Mike's idea for me to go, yeah, but that's not the only reason." Jesse said.

Walt managed to shudder. "I know. Drew Sharp…but Jesse, I'm not asking for you to work full-time. I am asking for your help for this matter, and then maybe just so we can get our new enterprise up and running. It should really only take a few weeks, maybe a month, for things to settle down and I can manage things on my own. But before that time, I'll need some help."

Jesse scratched his chin. "I dunno, man—"

"Jesse, remember, this business, it's all I have left. I can't let Mike try and take everything I've worked towards away from me."

Jesse paused, considering his offer. Walt was crossing his fingers mentally. He needed Jesse back.

Eventually, Jesse spoke. In a shaky voice, he looked at Walt and said "One condition."

"Anything."

"I need you to get rid of Todd."

Walt regarded Jesse for a moment. Then, he nodded his head.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"...Michael Ehrmantraut, 62, reported missing earlier this week, is slowly crawling up New Mexico's Most Wanted list, as reward for his capture doubles to over $400,000...before the disappearance, DEA agents had found evidence that Ehrmantraut had been working with the deceased Gustavo Fring, former head of local Albuquerque-based Los Pollos Hermanos fast-food chain, and, as later evidence revealed, drug kingpin of the Southwest...with us now is head of the investigation, ASAC Hank Schrader...thanks for joining us, Hank."

"My pleasure."

"Now, my sources tell me that this has been a year-long investigation for your men to find out who is responsible for the infamous blue meth...what does Ehrmantraut have to do with this?"

"Well, we think that Ehrmantraut was Fring's right-hand man. He definitely worked with him in the meth business, we're sure of that. But we're still unsure of what his involvement in the current business is. Because you know, the blue meth is still showing up on the streets, everywhere. But we know he is involved somehow."

"Could he be at the head of that operation?"

"Well, not necessarily. We figure Ehrmantraut had been working with Fring for years from leaked bank accounts that Fring had for his employees. But this blue meth is relatively new. By Fring's standards, anyway. The only name we have for the person who's behind the blue meth is a pseudonym, 'Heisenberg.' We figure that due to Fring's switch to blue meth, Heisenberg worked with Fring for about...well, at least for a little bit...before they had a 'falling out,' you could say. Maybe Ehrmantraut was involved in that nursing home bombing. We don't know. Either way, we suspect that Ehrmantraut worked, and possibly is still working closely with this Heisenberg when the cook decided to go rogue."

"So is that why the DEA seems to be hunting Ehrmantraut with such vigilance? To find this 'Heisenberg'?"

"Yes. I have no doubt in my mind that not only does Ehrmantraut know the identity of Heisenberg, but, if the right buttons were pushed, he'd lead us to him."

"Where do you think Ehrmantraut is now?"

"Hard to say...he's almost surely out of the state. There's a chance he might be dead. But we don't think so, because-"

David Holder pressed the power button on the small TV, turning it off. That was enough. He had gotten the message. So Mike had finally been found out. He knew it would happen eventually. Part of him felt glad that he hadn't been caught. At the same time, he felt dread.

Dave knew what was going to happen next. He knew what this meant. It was only a matter of time before Mike would be knocking on his door. How long would it take? One day? One hour? One minute?

One second?

Only a few hours later it turned out. The ring of the doorbell echoed throughout the small apartment. Summing up his remaining courage, he walked to the door and opened the door. Sure enough, there he was. Older, much older, but he recognized that dead-eye stare from anywhere.

"...Garret Palmer?" Mike said. Dave's 'new' name. Even after twenty years, it had never fitted. "Can I come in?"

Silently, Dave let him in. Mike walked into the apartment. Mike. Mike Ehrmantraut. The last time he had seen him was...what, twenty years? Yes. That would be about it.

Mike walked around the apartment, sizing it up. "Hasn't changed much since I last saw it." Mike said.

Dave said nothing in response.

"I assume you've been keeping up with the news."

Dave nodded silently.

Mike sighed. "You know why I'm here?"

Dave nodded.

"Talk to me, Dave."

"Yes, I know why you're here." Dave forced himself to say. "You need a place to hide."

"To put it one way, yes." Mike said. "I just need to stay here for a little while. Until things cool down."

"How did you get here so quickly?" Dave asked.

"I have outlets that smuggled me across the country," Mike said, "once I got in touch, it didn't take me long to get here. New York City. You know, this is the closest I've been to Philadelphia in a long time."

"How long?"

"Excuse me?"

"How long do you need to stay here?"

"A month, tops. The DEA will move on as my former...associate makes even worse decisions."

"Ah." Dave said. He didn't know how to respond. He didn't even know what to say to this man.

"You know, Dave, you don't have to be afraid of me." Mike said finally. "We used to be friends."

"Yeah, and you used to be a cop and not some scumbag hit man." Dave said. He was unleashing pent-up anger that he had been holding for over twenty years at him now. The betrayal. The lies. The greedy motivation.

"You have ample reason not to like me. I understand that. But don't forget that you owe me. You finally get to pay me that favor."

"Oh yeah, Mike...I asked for this. Leaving my entire past in the dust. Oh, I certainly owe you so much for living alone in this lovely, cramped apartment." Dave said sarcastically.

"Okay then, I suppose you prefer the inside of a jail cell?" Mike snapped. "I held up my part of the bargain and protected you. Now are you gonna protect me, or aren't you?"

There was a pause as Dave tried to come up with a comeback. When nothing came to mind, he reluctantly said "I will."

"Good." Mike said. "Just a month. Then you're done with me. For good." Dave kept a wary eye on his former partner as he looked around the small apartment.

* * *

><p><em>It was his first day on the job, and David Holder had never been more nervous. The prospect of being a beat cop in as big a city as Philly was exciting and scary at the same time. No more pencil pushing at the desks. No more of the months of rigorous training. His job was about to get serious.<em>

_New job. New atmosphere. New partner. He'd never had a partner before. That was exciting. He wondered who it would be. A professional? A beginner like himself? Dave knew he would soon find out._

_As he walked into the police station, he saw Captain Ortega, the man who had promoted him to this job in the first place. Apparently, he had "fit the skill set and the proper motivation" for the job. _

_Next to the Captain was a man he didn't recognize. He was about his age, if a few years older. Thin, brown hair collected on his head and a healthy goatee laid on his chin. His eyes were young and ambitious. _

_"Officer Holder," said Captain Ortega, smiling. He shook his hand. "First day on the job. I'd like you to meet your new partner. Dave, this is Officer Michael Ehrmantraut." _

_"Pleasure to meet you, Officer," Dave said while extending his hand._

_"How do you do," Officer Ehrmantraut said while shaking his hand. "And please, call me Mike." _

_Dave smiled. "Okay, Mike. Call me Dave." _

"_Now, you both might as well get to know each other. You're partners now." Captain Ortega said._

_Partners. Something about that word seemed exciting to him. Maybe it was just because Dave was new to this whole system, but it made him feel comfortable that he wouldn't be going through it alone. _

"_Now," said Mike, grinning. "Where do we get our uniforms?"_

* * *

><p><strong>((Wow, sorry for the long wait everyone! Well, here is Chapter 3, at last! I will try my best to update this story a bit quicker in the future. Anyway, thanks to a few different people on here I have finally figured out how to edit these documents, so if you look back at the previous two chapters you'll see they have been tidied up and fixed of some grammatical errors. And also, in Chapter 1, I only recently realized that the entire introductory paragraph was missing! So yes, I have made some changes. Thanks for the continued support, it really means a lot to me. Anyway, enjoy this update!)) <strong>


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

_"Oh, Jesus..." Mike said, looking at the scene in disgust. Dave couldn't help but feel the same disgust. The place was the nastiest they had ever seen. The stench of blood and metal petrified their noses. Mike put a head to his temple. "Oh, God..."_

_Dave felt sick. The whole case was just awful. Different from any other domestic. The vicious drunk by the name of Gordy that beat his wife weekly...and this time, it wasn't just a beating. Murder. Not a quick and easy one. Her head was crushed with the base of a blender. Her body was hardly recognizable anymore. If they both hadn't seen her as many times as they had, then neither would probably know it was her. _

_But they knew. _

_Gordy was nowhere to be seen. He probably didn't get far, maybe haggardly walked a few blocks before collapsing. The paramedics carried the body of his late husband away. She was long dead. _

_Dave looked away as they took her body away. Mike watched. Dave saw remorse in his eyes, but also anger._

_"That son of a bitch..." Mike grumbled, "how could we have let this go on?"_

_"It isn't your fault or mine." Dave said. "This...it's horrible, but she didn't want to press charges. So there was nothing we could do."_

_Mike sighed. "Yeah, there was something I could have done." He bit his lip. _

_"No, there wasn't. Stop beating yourself up, Mike." _

_"No...two weeks ago, when you were sick with the flu, remember? I...I had him then." _

_Dave looked at him curiously. "What do you mean, 'had him'?"_

_"I mean I had him. Instead of throwing him in the drunk tank as usual, I..." Mike paused, swallowing. He stared off past Dave, at nothing. "I put a gun into his mouth and almost shot him."_

_"What?" Dave was stunned. "Mike..."_

_"I had him there. Shitting in his pants. Sobbing. And...I could have pulled the trigger. But...I didn't. I let him go." _

_"Mike...why would you do something that stupid? That's not how we operate. We uphold the law, Mike! We're cops, for Christ's sake! We don't do that to people, even if they're the most wretched scumbags like him!" _

_"But don't you get it, Dave? If I _did_ pull the trigger, his wife would still be alive. No, she'd be free! She'd be happy! You saw how scared she was of him! She was scared he'd do something like this!" _

_"That doesn't change anything! You operated outside the law. If you really wanted to do something about it, work within the constraints of the law. But don't threaten him! That didn't solve anything!" _

_"But it would have, if I had pulled the trigger." Mike kicked at the floor. "I chose a half measure. I should have gone all the way."_

_Dave inhaled sharply. "You should have done nothing. Mike, I won't report this to the Captain, but you gotta promise me that you won't do something like this again."_

_Mike was silent for a moment. Then, he spoke. "I promise..." he said. "I won't make the same mistake again."_

_Dave got the feeling that he and Mike were not talking about the same thing. _

_Mike walked quickly away from the murder scene. "Come on," he said, "let's catch that son of a bitch."_

* * *

><p>Catherine Ehrmantraut watched her daughter Kaylee play with her toys from across the room. She was sitting on the floor with a stuffed teddy bear. Mike had given it to her, she remembered. Well, Kaylee's Pop Pop had given her a lot of her toys. He'd given her a lot, that's for sure.<p>

"Ma'am?" said the DEA officer, catching her attention again. Catherine looked back at him. A short, fat, bald man with a very shiny badge hanging down from his neck. Apparently, he was the one that brought down Gustavo Fring. Next to him was his partner, a Hispanic man with a goatee.

"Yes...sorry." Catherine said. She was unfocused. The police had obviously listened in on that call Mike made to Kaylee. Traced it back to some payphone in Santa Fe, where near it they found a car that Mike probably drove out of Albuquerque. They also got reports of a stolen car near the scene, although that had vanished off the face of the Earth.

"Let me ask you again," the DEA agent said, "do you have any idea where Michael Ehrmantraut is?"

Catherine shook her head. "No...I'm sorry..." She was feeling faint. Why did they keep on questioning her like this? Mike never told her anything. Only that money was coming in for them. Well, not for _them_. For Kaylee.

"Did you know anything about Michael's previous business negotiations?"

"Nothing. Although, I guessed something might have been up." She said honestly.

"Oh? What gave you a hint?"

"I don't know...just some of his mannerisms I suppose. I didn't realize it was as big as meth distribution, otherwise, I would have told the police. I swear, that's the truth."

"Mannerisms?" The agent said. "Like..." he looked at his notebook for a transcript of the conversation, "...'shut the fuck up and put her on the line'?"

"He never was very nice to me. I admit it. But I didn't know of anything illegal, I swear."

"Okay, just one last question, Mrs. Ehrmantraut. Did you know he was feeding millions of dollars in drug money to your daughter?"

Yes. She did. But she didn't say so. She instead shook her head. "I'm sorry I couldn't have been more help to you."

"It's okay," the agent said. "Thanks anyway." The two agents smiled, and then Catherine showed them out the door.

As the door slammed, she shuddered. She wondered for a moment why she hadn't told anyone. That she knew Mike was in the drug trade. That he was feeding Kaylee millions of dollars. That he killed.

But she knew why. It was because she was afraid. Of what Mike would do to her if she did rat out on him. And Catherine did not want to see what would happen if she did, even if he was probably many miles away now.

And one thing kept haunting her. One tiny little detail. At the end of the call, Mike's final promise to Kaylee: "But, I promise, I'll be back sweetheart. I'll be back soon." And if there was one thing that that corrupt man still cared about in this world, it was her. Mike would be back. She was sure of that.

And Catherine didn't want to be around to see that.

"Mommy, who were those men?" Kaylee asked innocently. Catherine walked to her and hugged her.

"They were just asking some questions," she replied, "you don't have to worry about them."

"Asking questions about Pop Pop?" Kaylee said. She was getting older. Still too young to understand, but she knew something was wrong with Mike. "Is he okay?"

Catherine considered the question carefully, and realized that Mike had probably not been okay for many years. In the end, she didn't answer her question. "I'm sure you'll see him again."

Kaylee smiled, and went back to playing with her teddy bear. Catherine watched her wearily.

* * *

><p>"Well, what do you think?" Steven Gomez asked his partner as they walked away from the house. "The mother have anything?"<p>

"Nah," ASAC Hank Schrader responded. "I highly doubt it. She might have known about the money, but that seems like about it. I don't think she knows where he is, but you never know. We should keep an eye on her, just in case Ehrmantraut gets touchy-feely and decides to call her again."

"Got it, but that seems to put us at a dead end." Gomez entered their car. "You checked with his old police station in Philly and they don't know anything about this, or anyone he'd hide out with from the force. We've got all known big-time associates of Fring in jail, including that lawyer that was helping him earlier. That doesn't leave many other people that we know of."

"Yeah, I know." Hank said, a troubled look on his face. "I have a feeling that the other lawyer, Goodman, he's in on something. But it would be tricky to go after a lawyer, even if he looks more like a clown."

"Besides, we're already tracking his moves. That's the best we can do right now until we can find some incriminating evidence."

"Yeah..." Hank said. "Any more information on that partner of his, what was his name..."

"Dave Holder? Nothing new, if that's what you mean. Disappeared about twenty years ago after he got into a bit of hot water, never heard of again. There's a very good chance he was killed once his second line of work found out he had been caught. Afterwards, Ehrmantraut left almost immediately to Albuquerque. Denied knowing anything about both Holder's criminal activities or disappearance."

"I think that's a pile of bullshit," Hank said. "And I think Holder's out there. And Mike knows where he is."

"Maybe he is, and maybe he does. But this guy has been off the map for over two decades. Nothing. You might as well be trying to find Heisenberg."

"Hmm. Well, I'm just saying we should keep an eye out. He might be contacting him or something." Despite this, for once, it seemed to Hank like he was at a dead end. Months of chasing this Heisenberg, and finally they had gotten a lead. But the dirt bag got away before they could have done anything about it.

Hank heard his cell phone buzz in his pants pocket. Hank pulled it out and opened it. "Yeah?"

"You better come over here quick." It was one of his DEA agents. "I'm at the prison."

"Which prison?"

"The one closest to where you are now. You're at that Ehrmantraut lady's, right?"

"We were just about to leave, yeah. Why?"

"We've got something here one hundred times more interesting. One of Fring's men is ready to talk."


End file.
